LimeAid, Love, and Fireflies
by Forkhead
Summary: When life tosses you into the jello bowl, all you can do is eat or swim. Modern day. Summary inside.
1. Family, Parking Lots, and Junk Food

Summary: Skittery is having a tough time trying to keep his psycho mom away from his half-brother, Tumbler. How is he supposed to deal with girls as he counts the days until he can take Tumbler and run? Especially girls like Cori, who can't take a joke, and who all his friends are creeped out by anyway. When Oscar is there to witness their messy breakup suddenly he's the good guy, the shoulder to cry on. Which is funny, considering he's hated by all the kids at school, and more alone then ever, now that his big brother is moving out and Oscar is stuck picking between his uncle and his estranged father. Sometimes, life tosses you into the jello bowl and all you can do is eat, or swim.

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own Newsies or any of the characters from that wonderful movie. Disney owns them all, though I do have an evil plot to steal the rights to Skittery....**

_Author's note: So I've been writing True and False, as my main priority, but when I fell in love with Oscar because of that story, I started writing this. If you guys like it enough, I'll work on it while I'm writing True and False, if not I'll post it anyway, just later. haha. So if you like it, let me know! Or if you think something is off, tone or pace or something, please let me know! Even if you don't read to the end :)_

_[a quick note] the story will switch between the perspective of Skittery, and Oscar._

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* * *

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**SKITTERY:**

I woke up to wailing.

I was on my feet, stumbling through the dark, blindly groping for the door before I had even opened my eyes all the way. The hallway was dark, but the overhead flickered in the kitchen. The light was harsh, it stabbed my slitted eyes as my bare feet slapped the cold tile. The digital clock over the stove read 3:33, an army of teeth. The stench of red wine, cigarettes, and my mother's perfume filled the stale air.

My mother paused to look at me. She had her stubby fingers wrapped tightly around my little brother's arm, squeezing it and making the t-shirt pucker. Her other hand was drawn back, hanging in the air above him, ready to slam into Tumbler's face. His cheek already glowed red, tears dribbling down his trembling chin. He stared up at me with his large brown eyes, begging me to help him.

"Leave the kid alone," I told my mother.

She blinked, then brought her hand hurdling down, slapping Tumbler's little face. I might as well have not been there. I was nothing to her. I was simply a nuisance. A bug.

"Duncan," She said to Tumbler, "You better learn to respect me. I've told you to stay in your room, you should have listened."

My brother's eyes stayed on me. He was shaking and tears were still pouring off his face, but he knew I'd get him free. I always saved him, he meant the world to me. My mother raised her hand again, this time, she backhanded him, and her ring cut into his cheek. A red bloom of blood popped up on Tumbler's skin.

She staggered back, her hand to her mouth, and started to cry. She loved him more than anything, she truly did. She just didn't seem capable of realizing that she was hurting him until she left a mark.

I took advantage of the opening.

I swooped past her, gathering the kid in my arms. I knocked my shoulder against the fridge and it shook and creaked, but I tore down the hallway. I staggered into my room and dumped Tumbler on the floor before slamming the door closed. I leaned against it with all I had in me and held my breath, listening.

Tumbler sat on the floor in front of me, illuminated by the strip of light that shone under the door. The dust and dirt on the wood cast long shadows across the surface. I saw Tumbler holding his hand to his freshly cut cheek, still crying. He was trying to be quiet, though. He was good about that.

I heard my mother crying for a while, heavy sobs that broke my heart and made me want to go comfort her. I heard her mumbling to herself and I heard the sink running as she scrubbed her hands of Tumbler's blood. When she calmed down enough, she suddenly wanted Duncan again. I braced myself against the door, pressing my bare shoulders into the thin wood.

She opened Duncan's door first, the one next to mine. There was a long silence as she looked inside. Of course, he wasn't in there, and that ticked her off. She threw herself at my door, pounding on the wood, shaking the knob, shouting frantically through it for Duncan.

She wouldn't have hurt him again, I knew that, but she scared him. There was no way of knowing what she would do with him.

Once she kept him up until 10 AM shoving Lucky Charms and 'love' down his throat. Another night, she held him against her like a shield and cried into his hair until she passed out on top of him. One of the most common things she did was explain that because she was a bad mother she would commit suicide, and then he would live with me, and life would be better for everyone. Tumbler hated her at times like that, and I wanted to protect the smudge of love for her still in his heart. I wouldn't let her get to him, not tonight.

Her fists pounded on the door. Her feet kicked it. The hinges rattled from years of this abuse. I didn't have a lock on my door, but I was stronger than her. I held the door shut tight. Tumbler stared up at me from the floor, the shadows of her feet flicker across his face as he stared at me with fear in his eyes.

"It's okay," I told him.

He nodded as our mother hurdled her body against the door. She called out to him, begging him to come out. I told him to plug his ears and he did so faithfully. He squinched up his eyes and stuck his fingers into his ears and shut the world out.

It took twenty minutes for our mother to finally wear herself out and give up. She cussed me out once more for good measure, then rumbled back to the kitchen and her open bottle of wine.

I slid down the door and sighed with relief. Another battle won. Only 72 more days until I turned 18, took the kid, and bolted. I could have run sooner, Mom stopped caring where I was when I was 14. The thing was, I couldn't leave my kid brother to get pulverized by our mother. My only hope was that when I turned 18, the state would grant me custody of Tumbler when I explained how awful our mother was.

Tumbler crawled over to me and cried into my shoulder as we listened to Mom move around in the kitchen, every once in a while one of her gasping sobs echoed down the hall. I picked him up and stumbled to my bed.

My clock read 4:07.

I fell asleep with my brother's arms tight around me and his hot breath on my skin. He kept kicking my ribs in his sleep, but I didn't have the heart to move the kid. Every once in awhile I woke up to him muttering in his sleep, I could see pale outline as he twitched half awake then closed his eyes. He rubbed his nose sleepily and I couldn't help but love him more than the world itself.

* * *

The next morning Mom had herself locked inside her room, the air purifier purring through the door. I poured Tumbler some cereal and made myself coffee, leaving enough in the pot for my mother, for whenever she rolled out of bed.

Tumbler was quiet as he ate, the scratch on his cheek stood out red against his tan skin. I cringed when I looked at it. I hated my mother so much when I saw it.

"How you feel today, kid?" I asked, leaning back against the counter, my coffee mug in hand, my eyes on my little brother.

He only shrugged heavily.

"Are you excited for tonight?" I asked. His dad was going to pick him up and take him to the science center, which he loved. Not that you could tell judging by his grim expression.

"I've been before," He muttered.

"Not since they got that exhibit with all the bodies. The one where they show all the muscles and bones and shriveled lungs? That's supposed to be really cool." My eyes drifted to the scratch again.

"Costs extra," Tumbler said. "Daddy only does the stuff that doesn't cost. He won't even let my ride the high wire bike."

"Yeah, but didn't he take you to the movie last time? What was it something with the Titanic underwater footage? And then you guys got Dippin' Dots." I sipped my coffee, "If I offer to pay for you, do you think your dad will take you to the exhibit?"

"Don't bother," Tumbler mumbled.

"Hey kid?"

He glanced up, meeting my eyes.

"What's wrong?"

His lips started to tremble and tears glazed his big brown eyes. He dropped his spoon into his Fruit Loops, sending mushy cereal rings and multi-colored milk splattering across the kitchen table. His tears started to drip down his face and he reached out for me. I abandoned my mug on the counter and got to my knees next to him, wrapping him in my arms. His face jammed into the collar of my t-shirt and his little hands dug into the fabric on my back. His jagged fingernails poked into my skin beneath my shirt.

"I hate mommy!" Tumbler wailed. "I don't wanna live with her anymore!"

I swallowed a lump of salt in my throat, but it still burned. I felt tears choking my air supply and my vision dimmed. I'd always wondered when he'd finally want to be free.

"We could talk to your dad," I said. "Or maybe Aunt Amy. Or even the state. You could stay with a really nice foster family, huh? Like when you and I lived with the Foleys, remember? They were nice, right?"

I stroked his hair and kissed his forehead. He wasn't slowing down the tears at all.

"Or," I sucked in a deep breath. I didn't want to tell him yet, but he needed to hear it. "If you're really good, and patient," I had to pause, my voice was starting to crack, "If you can do that, you and I can get our own place."

Tumbler buried his head deeper into my shirt, snot and tears soaking through to my skin.

"I'll be good." He said, his voice muffled by my shirt. "When can we leave?"

"Soon." I said, "Real soon."

"How soon?"

I smiled and it forced tears out of my eyes.

"So soon." I said, I kissed his forehead again, "When I turn 18. Only 72 more days, then we'll go."

"That feels like a long ways," Tumbler said, but he pulled his face from my chest and sniffed loudly. "You promise, Skittery? We'll leave for good?"

"I promise."

* * *

I had plans with my girlfriend Cori that night. She wanted to go see the movie _Psycho_. It was playing at this junked up old theater from the twenties that only had one screen, and the cheapest, stalest pop corn in town.

Our plans went down the toilet when I got a call from Tumbler's school telling me his dad had never shown up.

I knew it bothered Cori that I never held her hand or kissed her good-bye, but I couldn't let myself do it. I didn't want to get too close, too attached. I knew I was going to be leaving in 72 days, which tomorrow was 71, then 70, on and on until the day Tumbler and I left. If I had a girlfriend I loved, it would only be murder to leave.

But I didn't tell her that. Confiding in her would link me to her. So instead, when she complained about me being cold, the only choice I had, was to freeze her out even more.

This was killing me, too.

When I had called to cancel on her, she offered to come over. I didn't want her inside my house. If she were inside my house, then she'd be inside my world, closer to me. I didn't want to push her away, I just wanted things to freeze where they were, but she wouldn't let things stop. I could let her deeper, and she refused to stay still, so she only had one place to go: further away.

"I'm not really up that," I said, crooking my shoulder up to hold the phone to my ear while I worked on opening a can of Chef Boyardee. "I think Tumbler and I 'll have a nice quiet evening alone. He's bummed about missing the science center."

"I could bring soda over or something." Cori pushed. "Or a movie. Even both, I can multi-task."

I didn't reply.

"Haha?" She said, "It was a joke... Bringing two things isn't multi-tasking it's just..."

I swallowed.

"Cor," I dumped the contents of the can into a bowl. "Please stop."

I covered the bowl in paper towel.

"We don't need you help."

I put the bowl in the microwave.

"We're fine."

I started the microwave and watched the bowl spinning on the glass plate, around and around. Like my conversation with Cori.

"Skittery, I just want to help." She said, her voice tense. Hearing that strain of annoyance made it easier to push her away. She used to just sound hurt and confused, now she was getting over it. Our relationship was headed south quick, but I didn't want to end it over a phone call. That was just tacky.

"I know you want to help," I said with a sigh. "But we don't need it right now. We're just going to have a boy's night."

"You spend all your free time with him," Cori said quietly. "What about me? I need time with you too." Her voice was changing, hurt now, instead of angry. I had to bail. I couldn't stand clingy Cori.

"I can't deal with this right now, Cor." I said, "I'm cooking dinner. I'll call you tomorrow." The microwave beeped as I flipped my phone closed, leaving Cori in silence.

I stirred the canned pasta around then handed it to Tumbler who sat on the floor by our TV. I was too worked up to eat so I just lay on the couch as America's Funniest Videos played on the screen, making Tumbler react between giggles and squeals of delight.

I had finally started relaxing enough that I was laughing at the video of a baby trying to lick a Cheerio from its lips. I realized I was hungry after not eating all day. I had just gotten to up to dig in the fridge when our front door flew open. I couldn't see them, but I heard my mother's steps and a man's laugh.

"Duncan!" Mom cried, I could tell from her voice, she was drunk.

I abandoned the idea of food and slid into the living room. Mom was standing, or better described as leaning, in front of the couch. Tumbler had shot to his feet and stood with his fists at his sides. The man had followed Mom in, not bothering to close the door, his eyes were glued to her. He seemed young, maybe 30, tops.

"I was expecting I'd have the house to myself," Mom said. Sliding her gaze to me. When Tumbler was at his dad's, I didn't really come home. I stayed with Racetrack or Jack, or someone if I was lucky. If I wasn't, I stayed in the park or a bus stop for the weekend.

"We're about to leave," I said. "Just finished dinner." I scooped up Tumbler's bowl and touched his shoulder on my way up, motioning for him to follow me to the kitchen. "We'll put on our shoes and go."

"Okay," Mom said as she staggered deeper into the apartment. "If you guys are leaving already." It was bogus, she was practically dancing with joy to be rid of us.

Tumbler and I were in my car putting distance between us and our mother in minutes.

"Where are we going?" Tumbler asked from the backseat.

"Where would like you like to go?" I asked, glancing at him in rearview.

Tumbler flopped back in the seat with a scowl. "Home, but it's not really here."

"I know," I sighed, turning on to 20th Avenue, no really thinking about where I was going. "How about Racetrack's?" I asked.

Tumbler shrugged. Racetrack's was good because I never had to call him, we could just show up. If he wasn't there, I could let myself in with key he hid in his porch light.

As we rounded the corner, I saw that Racetrack was sitting in the parking lot for his apartment complex. He was sitting on the parking stop smoking and he waved when he saw my car pulling up.

"I was wonderin' if I'd see you tonight." He said as I popped my door open.

"Yup, mom came home with a guy." I said.

"Fun." Race muttered. "How's it going, kid?" He said to Tumbler.

Tumbler shrugged. "Can I watch TV?"

Race rolled his eyes, "Go ahead. You know the way." He watched my brother take the stairs, two at a time to get to Race's apartment. "You know Skitts, that kid is pretty spoiled."

"Hey," I said plopping down next too him, "Watch it."

Race rose his eyes to mine, "Oh, sorry. I forgot, that kid is untouchable."

I set my jaw and shook my head. He was being a jerk.

"What's wrong with you man?" I asked, "He's a kid."

Race rolled his eyes.

"What!" I said.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked. "You're practically peeing yourself."

"Sorry." I said after a pause long enough to cool myself off, "I know it get's annoying, but he's my life."

"What about the rest of the world? Baseball, cars, girls? Cori. How's she doing?"

"I wouldn't know, I haven't hung out with her for a while." I said leaning back.

"When?" Race asked.

"Last Friday." I said.

"A week in a high school relationship, is like a month in any other." Race said with a mockingly philosophical voice. He grinned and slapped my shoulder. I rolled my eyes in return but I had to smile.

"Why aren't you hanging out with her now? Why'd you come here instead of her house?"

"We had a fight,"

"Last Friday?"

"Tonight," I said, "on the phone. I called to cancel our plans and she got all ticked about it."

Race gave me a look, "I would think so. Why'd you brake your plans?"

"I have Tumbler tonight, he was supposed to go with his dad, but he bailed."

"He bails, you bail? Is that, like, a rule?" He raised his thick eyebrows at me.

"No! It's just... Tumbler get jealous of Cori. He doesn't like having my attention divided away from him. But then if I pay attention to him, Cori gets annoyed with me for ignoring her. It's a lose, lose situation."

"You're spoiling the kid," Race said, "That kid thinks the world revolves around him. At least your world."

"Well, it does." I admitted, "It has to if I want both of us to make it."

"What, make it through your mom?" Race scoffed, "Yeah, I can tell she's tough, probably more goes on then I see, but you guys'll survive even if you have a girlfriend. And even if Tumbler occasionally feels you're leaving him out."

I shook my head.

"I'll keep Tumbler tonight," Race announced, "You go out with Cori."

I laughed, "What do you expect to do with a little kid?"

"We'll watch Dumbo or something, I don't know, man!"

"Dumbo? He's eight, he stopped watching Dumbo years ago." I pointed out with a smile. It was almost charming how little he knew about kids.

"Well, I watched Dumbo when I was eight, okay? But we'll watch something else. What does he like? Pirates? Spider Man? Iron Man? Transformers? We'll watch one of them. And after that, we'll get Oreo Mc Flurries and dip french fries in them."

"He only like the M&M Mc Flurries." I said.

"The M&M ones? What kind of jacked up kid likes the M&M ones? No one likes the M&M ones!"

"It's not like he likes spinach or something," I rolled my eyes, "M&Ms are still crap. Just multi colored crap." I laughed.

"Whatever, I'll get the kid whatever kind of nasty butt ice cream he likes, and we'll watch whatever violent PG-13 movie he wants, but you have to go out with Cori tonight. Make up with her for the fight."

"I have no idea what to say, or where to take her."

"I don't know about what to say, but judging by how all over you she is, 'Sorry' is all you'll need." Race said. "There's a party at Spot's tonight, Jack was taking Sarah to it. Text Jack and he'll let you know the address and all. Spot won't care if you crash. He probably won't even notice. He doesn't even notice when the Delanceys crash there."

* * *

**OSCAR:**

"What do you wanna do?" I asked, leaning back on the hood of the car.

Morris groaned and shoved his palms to his eyes. I waited for him to talk, watching the moths flit around spastically above me.

"I wanna get a life." Morris said finally. "A new one. Mine expired. And it sucked even before that."

I rolled my eyes and laughed at him, but I had to agree. We were leaning on the hood of our ten year old Honda, sucking down the drinks we had pinched from the Kwick-Stop we worked at. I don't really know why gas stations always seem compelled to misspell words on their signs. Maybe to make the low life and illegal immigrants feel welcomed, but whatever the case they all seemed to do it.

I had once offered this theory to my uncle – Scott Wisel to the world, but Weasel to the rest of us– and had gotten smacked for being mouthy. But I wasn't being mouthy, I just think it's funny.

My brother and I had just finished our Friday evening shift and were still in the parking lot of that stupid Kwick-Stop, looking out at four lanes of traffic, watching the stop light flicker out color. We didn't really have friends other than each other, and we didn't always get along, but we were the only thing we had.

Our dad flaked when I was still in diapers. He moved out to Idaho where he got married to a tennis player with two kids, and he settled down nicely, forgetting the two kids he actually had a part in making. He would visit at random intervals, bearing gifts and pictures of our half siblings, I could never remember how many of the little brats there were. I didn't really want to know too much about the life he chose over us. Mostly his visits were just him sitting awkwardly on our broken down couch and telling us were turning into fine young men.

It was real bogus.

Our mom ran off a few years after Dad left. I was three, and Morris had just turned six, but she dumped us on her big brother and said she needed "time". Who knows what she had meant by that then, but she never came back. Three years after she fled, our uncle got a call from a hospital saying she had been found OD'd in a motel in Wisconsin (Who goes to Wisconsin to do drugs?). Mom hung on for a few weeks, and our uncle went and spent time with her in the hospital but Morris was too freaked and I was only six, too little to understand, so we didn't go.

We stayed with this creepy old lady next door who shoved nasty butterscotch candies and Jeopardy down our throats the whole time Weasel was gone. The only good thing she did, was make me fall in love with old movies. I've seen East of Eden like thirty times, but the first time was at her house.

Then one night, Weasel called and said if we wanted to see Mom again, we needed to leave right that second. Morris decided to do it, but I stayed back with the crazy lady, her candy, and Turner Classic Movies.

When Morris came back, he was wigged out and he never seemed to really recover. From what Weasel tells me I guess he was in the room when Mom had a seizure, vomited blood, then died. He's never said anything about it, but I wonder about it when he gets this freaky look in his eyes when someone starts seizing on House, or ER, or something.

But now, we lived with Weasel for good, and didn't complain much. He was a little freaky, and he'd hit us a few times when he was drunk, but I can't say they weren't deserved, and provoked. Mostly, he was a good guy. Mostly.

"We could go to the movies," I said, "Psycho is playing at Royal."

"No!" Morris said, "I am not sitting through Norman Bates cleaning that freaking bathroom again."

"Come on! That's cinematic genius!" I cried. We'd had this argument again and again. He always said that the scene of Norman Bates getting rid of the body in the shower and then cleaning the spattered blood, was boring. I say it's eerie, as does pretty much everyone else.

"No, it's boring as crap, that's what it is. I do not want to go to see it tonight." He shook his head, "Let's do something else, please."

"What?" I asked taking a gulp of my Rockstar.

Morris leaned back and let his leg bounce up and down, the car started the shake.

"What about crashing a party?" He asked, hopping off the hood. He knew it was pretty much our only option. We weren't really invited to any parties, but Morris always seemed to know where different ones were being held. I think he was a much better eavesdropper then I was.

"Sure," I shrugged, "Sounds good. Where's it at tonight?" I slid off the edge and went to the passenger side while Morris got behind the wheel.

Morris cranked the engine, "Conlon's."

* * *

_A/N: Review?_


	2. Parties, Lies, and Car Rides

_Author's note: Alright. Finally getting back to this story! *happy dance* So, I really hope you all like it, I've rewritten the chapter about thirty times, hopefully it was worth it and you guys like it. :) Happy reading!_

* * *

**SKITTERY:**

I pulled up in front of Cori's apartment building. I could see her sitting on the sidewalk, her gray eyes flicking around, scanning for my car. I idled in the street in front of her and she lifted herself up. She gave me a tiny, unsure wave.

I jerked out a stiff smile in return. I felt really horrible leaving Tumbler with Race. I hoped he was okay. I checked my phone in case he'd called me and I hadn't felt it vibrate, but there was nothing. I flicked my phone closed and checked how much battery I had. Almost full. I guessed it would be okay. I wondered if I should call and make sure they had Cori's number should my phone die.

Cori yanked the passenger side door open.

"Howdy, stranger." She said, as a gust of wind from behind her blew her short, apple red hair around her face. She had dyed it every 'natural' color they sold at Walgreen's before she finally decided she wanted to be 'different' and die it a color straight from a Crayola box.

I nodded at her and something sad flickered across her face. She read into every little move. I couldn't stand when she did that.

"Hello, Cori." I said, just to appease her.

She slid inside and pulled the door shut behind her. She sat nervously tugging on the hem of her skirt, and crossing and uncrossing her round legs. I realized she was wearing thick, black tights even though it was getting warm outside.

"How's Tumbler?" She asked, as I pulled away from her street.

"He's upset his dad didn't show up again." I said. "He was really psyched about going to the science center, he loves it."

She nodded. "Oh, I know. He couldn't stop talking about the last time he went. He saw that famous shipwrecks movie, right? They showed like, pirate ships and the Titanic... All that cool underwater drama."

"Yeah." I smiled, she paid pretty good attention sometimes, I had to give her that. She liked Tumbler a lot, actually, which was nice, but still... I couldn't get too close to her. I was leaving, no matter what, I had to save my little brother.

After a moment of silence, Cori leaned forward and pushed the volume button on my CD player to turn it on. I flicked my eyes over to her. She knew it bothered me when she messed with my stuff. Cori wrinkled her nose at the song that came on and started to skip through the tracks, listening to the first three seconds before moving on.

It was really getting on my nerves.

I leaned over and flipped off the CD. Cori's eyes rested on my fingers as I punched the eject button and threw the CD to the back of the car. Better there, than in her control.

"Sorry. I wasn't..." She trailed off and frowned. "Sorry."

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my shoulders were starting to tense up. I rolled them back and cracked my neck. I kept my eyes on the road.

"It's okay, it was just really annoying me."

"You didn't have to rip it out of the CD player, you could've told me to stop." She said.

I shrugged. I flipped my blinker on and changed lanes. Some jerk about seven car lengths back blared on his horn like I'd cut him off. He pulled up next to me started screaming loud enough I could hear him through my rolled up window.

"Idiot." I muttered, keeping my eyes straight ahead.

"Indeed." Cori said. There was a long pause. "Did you know that American car horns beep in the tone of F?" I didn't reply. When Cori got nervous she always spouted random facts. "Weird, right?"

I ignored her still. I got tired of hearing about a sheep's level of inelegance, or how much it rains in different parts of the world, but Cori never ran out of random things to add to a conversation.

I pulled out my phone to see if Tumbler had called yet. Still nothing. I opened Jack's text to double check Spot's address. I glanced at the street sign ahead of me then flicked on my blinker. This party was a really bad idea. We weren't even there yet and I knew it would turn out bad for us. I was going to make Race pay, I knew that much.

Cori slumped down in the seat a little, her knees bumping the dash and her arms crossed over her chest, pouting. I rolled my eyes.

The pink-ness of her skin showed through the knees of her tights and I could see a long curved scab on one of them. There was a time I would have asked what happened, but it didn't seem worth it anymore. She spouted long, detailed stories with very little to do with the actually event, so I never asked anything unless I was sure I could handle the answer.

We pulled onto the street Spot lived and I could see cars littered his yard. We parked half a block away and hoofed it back. I had to wait for Cori to shove her purse into my glove box so no one would see it and try to steal it. I would have asked why she brought it in the first place, but I didn't feel like getting that story either.

In the yard some guys were throwing a football back and forth. I knew them from school and one of them, we called him Swifty, was on the baseball team with me. He threw the ball to me and I spiraled it back. Cori stopped next to me and just watched.

"How's the party looking?" I called across the yard.

"So-so." Swifty said. "That's why we're out here."

I laughed and shrugged as he threw it to another guy I didn't know, who threw it to Dutchy, another kid I hung with sometimes, who threw it back at me.

"Can we go inside?" Cori asked.

I looked down at her and frowned. "Why?"

"I'm being eaten by bugs already." She said, and showed me the back of her hand which did indeed have a swelling bug bite on it. Her eyes flicked around the yard and then stopped. Her face split into a grin. "Sarah!" She waved.

I followed her gaze and saw Sarah Jacobs and Jack Kelly were hovering in the dark talking and kissing. Sarah frowned and waved feebly at Cori. Cori liked Sarah, but Sarah wasn't so crazy about Cori. Unfortunately, Cori couldn't see that. She was slow about who liked her or not. She was one of those people who would text you six times a day thinking the reason you weren't texting before would somehow vanish.

"We can go inside." I said. At least I could save Sarah and Jack from being bothered.

I let the football fly toward Swifty, then I herded Cori towards the front door. She was biting the inside of her cheek nervously, making her cheek concave and her lips get fishy. I smiled at her. I did feel bad sometimes how scared she was of crowds and everything.

"Come on," I said slipping my hand into hers and tugging her towards the party. She gripped my forearm with her other hand and followed me. I almost felt like I was leading a little kid. When I looked back at her, I didn't really mind having her with me.

* * *

Over an hour later I was really starting to twitch. Cori was getting annoyed with me for checking my phone every few minutes, which was ridiculous. What if Tumbler called and I missed it? I really wanted to call the kid and see how he and Race were doing. I told Cori I was going to go get drinks and while I was swooping towards the kitchen I hooked one of friends by the arm.

"Hey, Specs." I said, "Can you do me a huge favor?"

He shrugged. "Depends on what you need."

"Can you babysit Cori for a second? I gotta go make a call and she's been all over me about not leaving her alone."

He glanced back at her, she was on her tip toes looking for me already.

"No problem." Specs said, he sort of wiggled his thick eyes brows and grinned.

"No funny stuff." I called after him with a laugh.

"No promises." He said with an exaggerated wink.

I rolled my eyes at him. I had to stop hanging with such peppy people. I was still smiling when I found my way to the backyard. I huddled under the light of a small porch lamp and pulled my phone out.

I paused. I could see in through the sliding glass doors. Specs was pulling a deck of cards out trying to show Cori a magic trick. She was grinning and he was giving her looks over his glasses. I rolled my eyes again, he was such a flirt, and Cori always fell for it. I didn't know why, honestly.

I hit the speed-dial for Race.

"Racetrack's baby-sitting service." He answered the phone. "We take 'em, then spank 'em."

"Haha." I said.

"Skittery," he said, "why are you calling? Are you being murdered? Arrested? You're supposed to be having a good time with Cori."

"Shut up." I said. I watched Specs make Cori pick a card. She was biting the inside of her cheek. What was he saying to her? She was blushing. Weird. "Listen, can you put the kid on the phone?"

"Come on, he's fine." Race said. "We're watching Star Wars. Luke is toting Yoda around like a 900-year-old backpack, and Han and Leia have huge amounts of sexual tension between them. We're having a fabulous time."

"Just give the kid the phone, stupid."

"Uncalled for." Race said, but a second later I heard the TV pause.

"Skittery?" Tumbler's voice came across the receiver, he sounded nervous.

"Hey, kid. How are you doing?" I asked. Specs was leaning towards Cori and she was blushing again. I felt jealousy spike through me. I needed to back in there. He showed her a card and she shook her head.

"When are you coming back?" Tumbler asked.

"Soon." I watched Specs rub his palm across the card and then turn it over again.

"When?" Tumbler asked. Specs flicked the card, then flipped it. It was a different card now and Cori nodded, grinning.

"I don't know," I said. "Not too long. Cori and I are just hanging out. I promise if you're asleep when I get there I'll wake you up and tell you about the party."

I watched Specs slide his hand up Cori's arm. She blushed again and looked down. He was going too far. I needed to get in there and get him off.

"But..." Tumbler's voice faded. "I need you." He said. "I.. I..." He started crying.

"Hey, hey it's okay." I said. "I'll be there in a just little bit, okay? I'll just drop Cori off at home, then come get you."

I could hear him crying harder. Specs said something and Cori laughed. She laughed? She was enjoying Specs being all over her.

"He's okay, Skitts." Race said taking the phone. "He'll be fine, I promise. I'll feed him more junk food and blare more Star Wars."

"No, I'm coming." I said. "It's fine. I'm tired of being here anyway. Guess what I'm watching?"

"Some kid vomit?"

"No, but I'm about to vomit myself." I said. Specs is hitting on Cori, and she's liking it."

"Are you sure? Maybe you could go pry him off with a crowbar, then bash his face in." Race said. "You could send me a picture in a text."

"Tempting." I said. "I'll be at your house in a few." I hung up.

I stared through the window, Specs was still talking to her. She was giggling now. She touched his arm. Fine, if she was going to flirt with some other kid, I might as well leave. I charged around the corner and hoped she felt guilty when she realized what she'd done.

* * *

**OSCAR:**

I was pissed off. I was sitting in Conlon's front lawn smoking, and I was about to go kick my brother's face in. On the way to the party, we were at a red light when he had turned to me and said: "What would you do if I wasn't around anymore?"

I had laughed. "What, are you dying?"

"No." Morris had said, "I'm just... I'm wondering. If you were by yourself, would you want to live with Weas, or Dad, or what?"

"I'd want to live in a van down by the river." I said grinning.

Morris rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, just answer."

"I don't know. That's really random." I said, I'd flipped the radio on and some early 90's Paula Abdul song came on. I groaned and started flipping through stations. Morris shoved me back, one hand on the wheel, one on my chest.

"Stop it." Morris said, he flicked the radio off and the car went silent. "Tell me, where would you want to live if I weren't around."

I stared at him now. I knew something was up, but I had no clue what.

"I don't know. I guess... I don't know. I never thought of it before. I kind of figured we'd get our own place or something, I hadn't thought of being... Are you dying? For real?"

The light turned green and he smiled, "No. I'm not dying... I'm moving."

"Moving?" I said. "What the heck, where?"

"Michigan."

"Michigan?" I repeated.

"Yep." He said. "I got... I got excepted to a college in Michigan."

"But you never applied anywhere, right? You never said you did. Why'd you do that?"

"What, Oscar? You expected me to sell beer and cigarettes for the rest of my life?" He asked. "Listen, just answer the question. Weas said he'd keep you, but Dad offered his house, too. He wants to get a little time with you, at least."

"You've told both of them, but you hadn't even told me you applied?"

"I asked them when I applied, they don't know I've gotten in." Morris said. "I didn't want you to get all worked up about moving if I didn't get in anyway. You're the first person I've told that I made it. It's sort of a big deal for me, you know? I never thought with all the crap on my record that they'd except me, but they did... I'm in. It's kind of life changing, you know?"

I stared out the windshield for a second, trying to think of something, anything. "I'll go with you." I said. "We can get some sort of apartment or something." I said.

Morris rolled his eyes over to me. "I... I think it would be better if you stayed with someone else... Better for both of us."

He didn't want me with him. I felt like he'd punched my gut. He was kicking me to the curb, just like our parents had. I worked my jaw around and glared out the window. I wasn't about to answer him now.

I'd been so steamed I didn't say anything else the rest of the car ride.

When we got to the party I bee-lined it to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the cooler. I downed it, then grabbed another. I didn't know where Morris was and I really didn't care. I was furious at him, he was abandoning me for what? For school? He'd done crappy in school, why was he going back? I'd been doing good in school, but I didn't plan on college. What was he trying to prove anyway?

I started to go out to the party, but the path was clogged with teenagers. I stopped, and chugged the beer in my hand. I snatched another and cracked it open, sucking it dry, then snatching another.

I tried to get out of the kitchen again, but this annoying kid with sweat stains and acne littered down his face was in my way. I tried about six times to pass him but he was taking up the whole doorway. I shoved him with the hand that wasn't holding my beer. He tumbled forward, smashing his fat face into the carpet, and glared back up at me.

"What?" I spat.

The kid rounded his shoulders, heaved his massive body up, and slunk away. Stupid, stupid kid. I rolled my eyes at him and shoved myself through the hallway. It was crammed full of bouncing, shouting teenagers wearing way too much cologne. I had a headache. My head was throbbing harder than the bass of the song. The room spun for a second but I stopped long enough to get my bearings.

Why had we come here anyway? I couldn't even remember. My head was buzzing and I felt giddy for no reason at all. I made a circle around the party and when I passed Morris it hit me again. He was leaving me. I glared at his back as he tried to pick up some chick wearing a glittery handkerchief as a shirt.

I was too plastered to realize I should stop drinking, so swung back by the kitchen to grab another beer. In the end I drank about three more, then abruptly I realized I had drank way too much, way too quickly. My head was spinning, and couldn't quite tell where I was in relation to the ground. I knew what was next. I dodged through the house and forced my way outside. I stumbled around until I was at the side of the house. I leaned over and vomited almost all of the beer, and all my guts onto the azaleas.

Oops.

At least it was dark and mostly everyone was inside the house now.

At that point, I sat down and waited for my head to clear. Of course, by the time it had, I remembered what I had tried to block. I wished really, really bad I hadn't chugged so much. I really couldn't hold my liquor, and I should have stopped after three beers... Four, tops.

I lit a cigarette and stared at the sky. I was starting to get fuming mad again when I heard someone walking through the bushes from behind the house.

I slunk into the dark space between the flood light on the corner of the house and the porch light. I was trapped between two windows. I could hear the party inside and the light poured out around me. I wasn't invisible by any means, but maybe a little less noticeable.

I squinted towards the figure as he walked past, right in the light of a street lamp. It was one of the stupid kids on the baseball team, the ones with these idiotic nicknames. His was Sktitery, he played left field. I knew because I had really wanted to be on the team last year but couldn't stand to tryout in front of those guys, let alone be on their team.

I watched Skittery walk right by and not notice me. He was half way down the sidewalk when he stopped and pivoted on his heels, looking at the house. He paused, took a step toward the party, then shook his head and turned back, jogging to one of the cars and climbing into it. He sat there for awhile then got back out. He trotted toward the house again then shook his head.

"Forget it." He muttered. This time he got in his car and started it.

I sat back down and took a drag from my cigarette. I could see his headlights pass and he squealed his tires accelerating. I didn't really care to know what was going on, but it gave me something to think about other than Morris.

Morris. It was back again, just like that. All the anger and stupidly, all the hurt. God. I didn't want to sulk. I felt like such a thirteen-year-old girl.

I leaned my head against the wall and looked up at the five stars I could see through the light pollution. Man. He was leaving me. Where would I live? Was Dad really something I could stand? He'd never taken interest in me before, why now?

The door clicked open and the music got louder for a minute. A girl came out and she rushed across the grass and ran in the direction Skittery had gone. I could hear her mumbling something angry under her breath. She got to the end of the street and I couldn't see her anymore. I stood and walked to the edge of the sidewalk, watching her.

"No. Crap! No." She pushed her fist to her temple hopped into the street where Skittery's car had been, her sweater and her skirt flared out, I saw a flash of her thigh under her dark tights. "No. Oh my god, crap! No. No. Why would he do that? Crap! I messed up. Crap."

I edged closer, but not too close, so I wouldn't freak her out. She had bright red hair, like the little mermaid or something, but real short. I didn't really like it at first, but the longer I looked the better it seemed to fit her. I watched her jump up and down in what I could only guess was an angry fit.

"You okay?" I asked her, from about twelve feet back. She turned and watched me drop my cigarette to the ground and grind it with my sneaker.

"Did you see him leave?" She asked, her eyes rising to mine. "The boy who was driving the car that was supposed to be right here?" She jumped up and down in the space again. "Did you see that stupid kid?"

I licked my lips, trying to size her up. Was she drunk, or just weird? Was I still buzzed enough I wouldn't be able to tell?

"Uh, yeah. Like fifteen minutes ago... I think."

She closed her eyes and groaned. "Butt face. He's such a jerk! I mean I was so ready for the night in. I mean, he cancels on me once, and then he calls back and is all, 'Oh, now Race is babysitting, come out with me, blah!' and I was nice, I said, 'Gee, well I did already plan on doing some other stuff, but I guess if you still want to go out...' And then he's all, 'Let's go to a party, which I know you hate, instead of seeing a movie, like we had planned in the first place!' And then we get here and he's ignoring me, and then he goes to get drinks and never– "

She stopped and looked up at me. "I'm sorry."

"Huh?" I asked, still trying to catch up with her string of words. My brain was way too sluggish to figure out everything she was saying.

"I talk too much." She said. "Sometimes, I just start telling a story and it doesn't stop, and either people stop listening and I feel stupid, or they just stand there staring, like you are, and I feel bad. I really need to learn to take non-verbal clues, but when I get nervous– I'm doing it again. Crap. There's something wrong with me, I swear. I should be admitted into... Someplace people get admitted to. Like... I don't know. I'll shut up, now. I'm sorry."

I blinked. God. That mouth could force you to sober up fast. She looked at me and her face was screwed to one side in this weird, worried expression. "Have you ever been like really nervous and you think you're going to puke for real because you can stop all the word vomit?" She asked.

I looked at for another second, my mouth open. I felt my grin growing across my face and I started laughing. She wasn't what I would expect Skittery to go for, but I guess that's the way it goes. She was random and bouncy and weird. I kind of liked it.

She laughed too. "I'm sorry."

"It's really okay," I said.

There was a pause.

Her face fell and she groaned. "Oh, crap! Crap. Crap. Crap. My purse is in his glove box. His stupid, stupid, butt-munch glove box."

"Oh." I said. "Do you need to use my phone...?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't have anyone to call. My grandmother is probably passed out in front of an episode of Law and Order by now... She's not a drinker, or something, she's just like, really, really old and likes to sleep a lot."

I laughed again.

She looked at me for a second. "Did you know that in the US 5.7 million children under the age of 18 live with their grandparents?"

"Uh... No." I said. "I didn't know that, but thank you for telling me. Now my figures of what age group lives with who is complete. I can move on to collecting figures of how many fisherman die in each part of the world. Thank you, for freeing up my life."

She stared at me.

I stared back. What the heck had I just said? She was rubbing off on me.

Her face split into a grin and suddenly she was laughing. Laughing at a joke I had made. I smiled. It felt really nice to have someone actually laughing at something I said. Someone other than Morris, at least.

"Oh, goodness. This is too much." She sighed. "I hate parties, he _knew_ that. I don't know why he dragged me here. I had wanted to go see Psycho, but he wanted to come here and now... He drives off."

"I love Psycho." I said. "I had been begging my brother to go but he wanted to come to this stupid party." And then he tells me he's leaving. Selfish jerk. I started scowling again. I knew that in reality, I had dragged him to the movies way more than he'd taken me to parties. And I knew that under normal circumstances I liked parties too, but I was in a disagreeable mood.

"Psycho is so much better than a stupid social gathering." The girl said. "Parties are just a bunch of stuck up kids who think badly of everyone else and ignore the brains out of you. Man. Why did he do that to me? The little jerk." She looked back at the pavement below her feet, as if the car would reappear. "As a fellow dude, why does a guy take a girl to a party and then drive off?"

"No excuse." I said. I kind of wanted her pissed off. The more pissed she was, the less likely she'd forgive him, the better my chances. I don't know why, but I suddenly wanted a chance with her, and badly.

"Hey," I said. "What would you say if you and me hop in my car, strand my brother here– he's being a jerk anyway– and we go see the midnight showing of Psycho? I'll pay since you've clearly got no money without your purse. But hey, Norman Bates waits for no one."

"What?" She said.

"You. Me. Hitchcock." I said.

"I can't." She said.

"Why?"

"Well, for one thing, I don't know you." She said. "Not even your name... Which is weird. But you don't mine, so we're even. Also, I'm still dating the creep who just drove off and left me." She glared at the dark road for a moment. "Besides, I never ride with strangers."

"Good rule to live by."

"One of the best. Right along with always look both ways when crossing the street, and never eat a chili dog before riding a roller coaster... But, I really don't think I can go. Not tonight, I mean."

I nodded. "That's cool."

It wasn't cool. God, I hadn't talked to a girl who would look me in the eye in forever. I knew that if I didn't go with her tonight, she'd figure out who I was and I'd never get to talk to her again. It wasn't that I was particularly attached to her, I just really liked talking to someone, anyone.

The door opened and a shadow came down the driveway. "Cori?" A voice called.

The girl turned around and frowned at the guy standing in the driveway. Another baseball player, Specs, I think. I started to slink off, at this point I figured it was all over. Specs would out me and she'd get creeped out and I'd go smoke another cigarette until the next interesting thing happened in Conlon's front lawn.

"Hey, your friend drove off without me." She, Cori, said walking towards him. "You think you can give me a lift home? He took off with my purse and everything... Crap! My keys, I forgot about them. I'll have to wake-up my grandmother..."

I rounded the side of the house and I couldn't see them anymore, but I did hear Specs asking who she'd been talking to. I heard Cori saying she wasn't sure. I waited for Specs to tell her who I was, but he never did. Maybe he hadn't seen my face, or maybe he just didn't care, but that changed everything for me.

I vowed that the next time I saw her, and I really hoped for a next time, that I'd get that girl to go out with me. I knew she was worth something.

And god, that girl changed my life.

* * *

_A/N: So this is going to be the most romantic story I've ever tried to write... Yes, True and False has a lot of romance, but Oscar's thing for Cori is going to be the biggest plot on his side... I just want to give him somebody to looooove. And I have no intention of making Specs a main guy in this... I just think Mark David is flipping adorable, and if I was already dating Skittery it would be Specs that would distract me.... Just saying. *meekakitty face*  
_

_Review please!  
_


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